Refuge
by AlongTheBinding
Summary: Ryan stumbles into the Curtis home in the middle of the night with bruises, pleading with Soda and Darry to not call Pony. But they don't understand. They thought everything was going great in Hollywood. He says he can't do it again and Pony can't know about any of it. Something tells them it's more than just a lamp this time. Sequel to Giving Back.
1. Sanctuary

**Disclaimer: I do not own The Outsiders. But I do own Ryan.**

**AN: Alright, so this is the sequel to Giving Back. I don't exactly know where this is going, and this sort of came out of nowhere. But here it is...**

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Stumbling into the darkened house, he thanked whatever powers that be that they didn't start locking their door and that Two-bit and Steve weren't crashed on the couch. Trying his hardest to not make any noise, he cringed at each squeal the floor boards gave, almost tripped over something, probably one of Soda's shoes, and realized too late he probably shouldn't have let go of the door. The bolts creaked loudly, the prelude to the deafening SLAM!

Damn! Why hasn't Darry fixed that yet? He froze. When he heard nothing but the rapid beat of his heart and the fluttering of butterfly wings in his stomach, he tip-toed over to the couch and collapsed face-first into the heavenly cushions. He knew from past experience it wasn't the most comfortable, but at the moment it was like a cloud. He knew he shouldn't have come and it was probably the worst plan he ever came up with, but he couldn't help it. It was his sanctuary and he so desperately needed to feel safe, secure.

The light flashed on, blinding him, and he tried to shield his eyes. "Glory, Two-bit! There are people trying to sleep here!" Oh, no! He sunk further into the couch. "Rye?"

Maybe if I keep my hand blocking my eye, Ryan thought, I can't see him and he can't see me. He knew it was a foolish thought, but he was really tired and sore. Hesitantly, he lowered his hand, strands of hair, thankfully, still hiding his face. "Sorry to wake you, Uncle Soda." He mumbled, sitting up.

"What are you doing here? Pony's been worried something awful!" He sat next to his nephew attempting to look him over to see if he was okay, but Ryan was making that difficult. He kept moving away from his hands. This concerned him even more.

"I'm fine." Ryan pushed Soda's hand away.

"If you're fine, you ain't got nothing to hide." Soda finally managed to brush some hair out of his nephew's face, exposing a huge black and purple bruise. He touched it lightly as Ryan cringed. "How did..."

"It's nothing!" Ryan cut him off, a little louder then he intended.

Footsteps padded into the livingroom. "Sodapop, what in the almighty universe..." He stopped short when he noticed Ryan. "Ryan? Orion Simon Albright, you better have a good reason for not being in California." Ryan held his breath, silently pleading, helplessly. Darry wasn't yelling, which was good because Ryan was sure he wouldn't be able to take it. "Ponyboy's been worried sick." He turned to pick up the receiver and began to dial.

"No!" Ryan launched himself off the couch, ripped the phone out of Darry's hand and slammed it back on the cradle. "Pony can't know. About any of it."

"Any of what, Rye?" He turned to Soda, looking so much younger than sixteen.

Darry caught sight of the side of his face. "Ryan..." He immediately started inspecting it. But Ryan drew back from his hand, mumbling that it was nothing. Sighing, he dropped his hand and gave him some ice to put on it. "You look like death warmed over. Go lie down."

Ryan complied, stretching out on the couch, lying his head in Soda's lap. Soda stroked his hair. It was soothing and calming. "Please don't call him, Uncle Darry."

He almost hung up the phone again, when Ryan called him that and gave him big puppy-dog eyes, but he continued redialing. "We have to let him know where you are."

"Please don't mention the bruise." But by that point, Darry was already trying to calm Pony down on the other end, assuring him Ryan was alright and safe.

Ryan looked up at Soda. "I'm sorry. I didn't know where else to go."

"Shut up with the apologies. You're always welcome here. You know that." Ryan nodded, tiredly, but Soda could read the dubious look and see Ryan already forming the "yeah, sure" response.

He was on the verge of tears. "I shouldn't have run, but I just can't do it again."

"Do what again, Rye?" But Ryan remained silent. "You worried us. Pony called saying you were missing and he had no idea where you were. Traveling from Hollywood to Tulsa by yourself ain't safe, especially walking around Tulsa in the middle of the night, without a jacket. We thought everything was going great in Hollywood."

Ryan's eyes closed and started to drift off. "It was."


	2. Chocolate

**Disclaimer: I do not own The Outsiders.**

**AN: Thanks for all the views, reviews, follows, and favorites. I love hearing what all you think is going to happen. I don't think I've ever received so many reviews for one chapter before! I'm having a lot of writing this story! Enjoy!**

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The smell of chocolate filled the air. It was a pleasant way to wake up, and it was yet another indication of safety. It was funny. After a year of living in the Curtis home, the smell of chocolate always relaxed him. And he was grateful. He couldn't remember the last time he woke up content. He couldn't help but grin as he pressed his face more into the pillow Soda or Darry stuffed under his head some point in the night and snuggle up more under the warmth of the blanket.

He thought that if he kept his eyes closed, it could be just like it was before, that none of it happened. Though, he knew at some point he would have to open his eyes and face reality. He couldn't delude himself forever, and as he knew from experience, reality had a way of sneaking up on you. Taking a long whiff of the ambrosial scent, nose, mouth, and stomach begging, he held it in one second longer to continue to fool himself. Cracking open his eyes, he let out the breath, the smile disappearing from his face.

With his eyes open, the room felt colder and the couch was like a rock. He shifted uncomfortably, wishing the smell of chocolate alone could erase everything, wishing he didn't have to open his eyes. And everything came rushing back, hitting him like an anvil and weighing down on him unbearably, until breath itself was impossible. He felt his heartbeat out of his chest and eardrums.

He leaned his head back and closed his eyes, taking in the smell of chocolate, two... three... four, and letting it out. Chocolate in, two... three... four, out. Screw it! This wasn't helping! He needed cake! More specifically, he needed Soda's chocolate cake that made his teeth ache with just one bite and was bright and colorful with a rainbow smiley face drawn on it with an outrageous amount of icing and sprinkles.

Okay, so maybe cake wasn't an actual answer, but it was a momentary, superficial solution and he missed chocolate cake. He missed more then chocolate cake. But if he could focus on cake, he wouldn't focus on anything else. And he was starving. Traveling halfway across the country on an empty stomach made an elephant look like an appetizer.

Reluctantly, he pushed himself off the couch and headed into the kitchen, rubbing his eyes. He was not looking forward to the interrogation he knew awaited him. But hunger won out. And it would be nice to sit between Soda and Darry again, feeling safe, protected, like nothing could hurt him.

"I've missed your chocolate cakes, Uncle Soda." He clumsily sat down, greeted by a slice that was "happy to see him". It was his favorite breakfast and the greatest comfort food.

He reached for his glass of chocolate milk, noticing for the first time he was only wearing his undershirt, and he froze. Again, he felt close to panic as his arms remained bare, exposing the finger marks that ran up and down them, some faded yellow and green and some as fresh as the bruise on the side of his face. Self-consciously, he put his hands in his lap under the table and stared at them.

"Rye, you trust us, don't you?" Ryan hated it when they asked him that.

"Yes," he whispered, defeated, knowing what was coming next.

"Then tell us what's going on."

"I can't." He sighed heavily. "I just can't."

Darry took a sip of his coffee. Ryan's nose wrinkled at the smell. He couldn't stand it. Pony never drank the stuff. Back at home... back in Hollywood (it hadn't felt like home for a while) their fridge was full of pepsi, coke, and chocolate milk. Their icebox used to always have chocolate cake. It isn't a home without chocolate cake. But they hadn't had it for a while. And instead of waking up to the warm, relaxing, safe scent of chocolate, he normally now woke to the incessant rattling of the coffee machine and the bitter, foul odor of coffee. It left him cold, tense, and frightful, like walking on eggshells again. Coffee and chocolate just did not go together.

"Ponyboy will be coming in a couple days. I managed to talk him into waiting a little." Ryan was grateful Darry did that. He was foolish to think they wouldn't call Pony, but at least Darry bought him some time. "Did you two have a fight?"

Ryan shook his head. "No. Everything is great between us."

"And school? Any kids giving you trouble?"

Ryan shrugged. "Fine. There's assholes wherever you go, but overall it's a good school. I still like it and am still doing well."

"Girls?"

"Some."

"Friends?"

"You remember Clyde?"

They nodded vaguely. But they still felt like they were getting nowhere. According to Ryan, everything in his life was perfect. "If you don't tell us what's wrong, we can't fix it."

Ryan devoured his slice of cake. "You can't fix it, anyway." He stared hard at Darry's coffee. "Where's my shirt and sweatshirt?"

"In the washer."

A thought crossed Ryan's mind and his face darkened. "Pony's coming alone, right? He's not bringing _Lin-da_," He couldn't keep the acrimony out of his voice when mentioning her name, "is he?"

"He doesn't have to." Both Darry and Soda knew how Ryan felt about Linda. "Though, Pony did say she was worried about you, too."

"Yeah, sure." Still glaring at Darry's coffee, he put his dishes in the sink and headed to the bathroom. "You going to the garage today, Uncle Soda?"

"Wanna come, too, Rye?" Ryan nodded, a small smile inching it's way across his face. "Steve'll be glad to see ya."

Ryan stopped in the entryway of the hall, turning back to his uncles. He could still smell the chocolate. "You know, Pony and I used to run in the morning." His smile widened. "We got up before the sun and just run." Just as quickly, the smile crumbled and fell. "But we stopped doing that. Just like we stopped having chocolate cake. You shouldn't have called him. I ain't going back." He turned back around and went to take a shower.


	3. Stains

**Disclaimer: I do not own The Outsiders.**

**AN: Thanks for all the views, reviews, favorites, and follows. So first a great many of you thought it was Pony? Now all of you think it's Linda? Is the mystery really solved? ****Awesomeness**** requested the ages of everyone. Ryan is 16. Ponyboy is 24-25. The rest of the ages of the characters are in relation to that, according to the actual novel. So, I believe Darry was six years older than Ponyboy in the novel, which would make him 30-31 in this story. Soda would be 26-27, I believe. Steve would be the same age as Soda. And Two-bit would be 28-29, I think.**

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The clinking of metal on metal. The distinct smell of tires, exhaust, and oil. This felt like home. And Ryan was eager to get his hands on a car, even if it was only to do a simple oil change. He couldn't help but grin as he entered the garage. And an added benefit of keeping his hands busy, was it kept his mind busy. He missed the garage. He missed working on cars.

Steve was waiting for them, giving Ryan a hard look. "I ought to beat the tar out of you, kid. You ever pull anything like this again and I will." Ryan nodded and Soda thought if his nephew kept tugging at those sleeves, they were sure to tear. "Break another lamp?"

Ryan flashed him a grin, glancing hungrily at the many vehicles awaiting them. "Business looks good."

"You picked a good time to give Ponyboy and Linda a heart attack." Steve agreed. The mention of Linda's name made Ryan tense and the grin fall, but this escaped their notice. "Yeah, we're a bit backed up. We can sure use the help." Steve clapped him on the shoulder and started work.

Popping the hood of some of Soc's car, Ryan tried to blank his mind as he toyed with the engine. Tinkering away with various tools, he remember the first time Soda brought him to the garage. Could that really have been only a year ago?

"How'd you even get here?" Steve broke into his thoughts.

"I came with Soda," he answered absently.

Steve rolled his eyes. "I meant Tulsa. I know how you got to the garage."

"Oh." Ryan reluctantly answered, "I caught a few buses, hitchhiked..." He cringed as soon as the word left his mouth.

"You what!?"

He focused heavily on the engine, talking earnestly. "Well, I considered hopping a train, but I didn't know their routes. Hitchhiking was my only option and I wasn't about to hot wire a car."

"You could've stayed." Steve pointed out.

Ryan was struggling with focusing at the task at hand and not thinking. "No, I couldn't."

Soda shook his head. "Hitchhiking is dangerous. You could've gotten hurt."

"Like a bruise, you mean."

"Is that how you got it?"

Ryan shuffled through the tool box loudly. "I need a wrench."

"Just as long as you don't throw it." Ryan shot Steve a look, making him laugh. "I'm surprised Ponyboy ain't here already, dragging your ass back to California."

"Darry talked Pony into waiting a couple of days." Soda explained.

Steve's face lit up. "Is Linda coming?" Ryan tried to distract himself and tune out the conversation.

Soda glanced at his nephew. "Uh... I don't think so."

Steve's face deflated in disappointment. "Man. She's one tuff babe."

"I've really missed working on cars," Ryan thought out loud.

Soda gave him a funny look. "Whatcha mean, Rye? Don't you work on Pony and Linda's car?"

"I used to." With a sad look in his eye, he paused his work. Soda was finding this all very odd. The gang kept in touch with them, but communication dropped some recently. They really did not think much about that. Soda thought that might be the reason they didn't know about all these changes Ryan was talking about.

"...Linda..." Neither Ryan nor Soda were paying attention to Steve continue to compliment and praise Linda, but when Ryan caught her name once more, he slammed his tools down and announced he was taking a break. Suddenly, he stopped by the stairs, frozen.

"What's a matter, Rye?"

Ryan remained still. "I can't go up there."

Soda and Steve exchanged a questioning look. "Why not?"

"I'm covered in oil."

Steve rolled his eyes. "Of course you're covered in oil, kid. You were just working on a car."

"But I'll track it into your apartment and stain your carpet and furniture."

Steve snorted. "You did it a million times before."

Ryan still wasn't sure. "It's okay, Rye." Soda assured. "It's alright. I swear." Hesitantly, the sixteen-year old ascended the stairs, leaving Soda and Steve that much more concerned and confused.


	4. Charming

**Disclaimer: I do not own The Outsiders.**

**AN: Thanks for the reviews, views, favorites, and follows.**

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The moment they entered the house, Ryan was grabbed and swung around the room.

"Easy, Two-bit." Soda warned, kicking off his shoes and going through the mail. "He ain't exactly in pristine condition."

Two-bit stopped and scrutinized Ryan for a moment. "I thought something looked off about you." He walked circles around him, examining him closely.

"Yeah, that bruise, genius." Steve stretched out on the couch.

Two-bit shook his head. "Naw. That ain't it. Where's Gopher's dog tags and your sketchbook?"

Subconsciously, Ryan's hand flew up to his empty neck. "I need a drink." He hurried off to the kitchen and poured himself some chocolate milk. Yes, chocolate would be good. He needed chocolate.

"Really, Rye." Startled, Ryan jumped at the sound of Soda's voice. He didn't realize anyone followed him. "Where are they?"

"I...uh... must've lost them." He tried to take a nonchalant sip, but Soda wasn't buying it.

"You never take the dog tags off and you always have your sketch pad with you."

Ryan wished he would just let it drop, but it was evident that was not going to happen. Digging in his pocket, he withdrew the dog tags, tossing them to Soda. The chain was broken and his uncle gave him a questioning look. But he merely shrugged. "It...uh... got snagged on...something... and snapped."

Soda handed them back. "We can get you a new chain." Again, there was that look of misery and desperation, but Ryan remained quiet. "Rye, what's going on?"

"Nothing." He shook his head. "I'm tired. I'm gonna go lie down." Ryan headed off in the direction of his room. Even after all this time of living in Hollywood, they kept his room for him.

"What about the sketch pad?" Soda called after him, but didn't get a reply. Sighing in frustration, he joined his friends in the livingroom.

Two-bit's face was all bright and hopeful. "Steve said Pony's coming in a day or so. Is Linda coming, too?" Steve and Soda shook their heads and his face fell. "Why the hell not? Not only is she blonde, but she can appreciate a good joke!"

"It ain't the jokes she's laughing at." Steve dodged Two-bit's swing.

"But Pony got himself a damn fine broad."

The slam of the front door announced Darry's entrance and he plopped down in his chair, glancing around the room. "Where's Ryan?"

"Probably with Waldo." Two-bit joked. "How come Linda ain't coming?"

"Ryan ain't exactly her biggest fan." Darry explained.

"How can he not like Linda?" Two-bit exclaimed. It was unthinkable.

"Everyone loves Linda!" Steve agreed. They thought she was charming, sweet, cute, and would never hurt a fly. The gang took to her quickly and she fit well with them. She even laughed at Two-bit's jokes and admired Steve's talent with cars. She seemed perfect and seemed to make Pony happy. About the only person she didn't win over was Ryan.

"Yeah." All four heads turned toward the doorway to find Ryan. "She can charm the pants off anyone."

"Watch it, kiddo." Darry warned sternly.

Ryan erased the bitterness from his face and voice. "You guys want some dinner? I'll cook." It had been a while since he last cooked. "You all worked hard today. Well, maybe not Two-bit." He grinned. "It's the least I could do."

Soda got up and headed into the kitchen. "That's okay, Rye." He ruffled his nephew's hair. "You worked hard today, too. I've got dinner." Just as quickly the smile fell and he looked like he had something to say, but was afraid to speak up. Knowingly, Soda offered him some food coloring and the sixteen-year old beamed in response, eager to help.

"You don't talk to Linda that way, do you, Rye?" Soda retrieved a few more ingredients.

"No." Ryan mixed in some blue. "Sometimes she thinks I'm mouthing off when I'm not. But I don't talk to her like that. I try to be nice to her."

"She ain't hard to be nice to, Rye. You ought to give her a chance." Ryan scoffed, but Soda let it go. He probably wouldn't get a clear answer if he did ask about it. "She means a lot to Pony."

Ryan nodded in agreement, his voice becoming small. "Pony told me he thinks she's the one."

"All the more reason to..."

Ryan cut him off. "I don't want to talk about her!"

Soda sighed. "I know its hard to go from it being you and Pony to adding Linda in the mix. And I know it ain't been easy adjusting to it. But..."

"You _don't_ know!" Ryan snapped. "You are halfway across the country and we hardly talk anymore! You _don't_ know!" Soda was surprised by this outburst and opened his mouth to say something further, but Ryan cut him off again. "Can we, please, just not talk about her?" Soda acquiesced, nodding, and got him talking about some of the dates he'd been on and his friend Clyde.


	5. The One

**Disclaimer: I do not own The Outsiders.**

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Nighttime sucks. It especially sucks when it's deadly quiet to the point where crickets aren't chirping, cars aren't driving passed, and the only sound your left with is the rhythmic breathing and soft snores of the people in the other rooms and your own heartbeat. There is nothing to distract you, take your mind off things you don't want to think about. You succumb to your thoughts and they come hard and fast and incessant.

Ryan tossed and turned in his bed, wrestling with the covers. Despite his best efforts and no matter how tired he was, he just couldn't get to sleep. Frustrated, he groaned, cursing under his breath. Worse of all, he couldn't even have peace of mind. "Screw this!" He growled between clenched teeth, threw the covers off him, and tip-toed out of his room.

He grabbed himself a glass of chocolate milk and a slice of cake, flipping on the television to occupy his mind. But the flashing of images and the corny laugh track didn't help. He couldn't turn his mind off.

_Ryan was sitting on his bed, back in Hollywood, sketch pad rested against his knees. He never had a room like that before. When they first moved in, Pony said they'd really do it up and boy, did he keep his word. His room was turned into a dream art studio, with prints from local museums hanging on his walls, along with his own work, a drawing table/desk and an easel, all fully stocked with various art supplies. It was better then Ryan could have ever dreamed of._

_As Ryan put the finishing touches on one of his school assignments, he heard the front door close and footsteps leading up to his room. Pony must have returned from his date with Linda. He grimaced at the thought. He didn't care much for Linda. Though, he had to admit, he never saw Pony smile so much._

_There was a light knock on his door and Pony came in and sat on the edge of the bed with that goofy grin. Judging by his face, it was an amazing date. Ryan focused back on his assignment. He couldn't get this one line right and it bugged him. But the more he tried to fix it, the worse he thought the drawing looked._

_Pony patted Ryan's knee. "Kiddo, I got to talk to you about something." There was something about that line that filled him with dread. He put his pencil down slowly, giving Pony his undivided attention. "How do you feel about Linda?"_

_Ryan blinked, mouth hanging open, not knowing what to say. "Why?"_

_"She and I were talking," Pony's smile grew, "about the possibility of her moving in."_

_Ryan sat up, eyes wide, scarcely breathing, heart beating rapidly. "What?"_

_"I want to know what you think about having Linda move in with us."_

_Ryan felt his heart sink and his stomach turn. He wanted to shout NO! Everything was different when she stayed over. Pony was different. But it was more then that. Should he tell Pony? Maybe she didn't mean it. Maybe she was just having an off day. It was probably a one time thing, anyway. It was most likely never going to happen again, right? Besides, he'd seen worse. Hell, he experienced worse. Maybe he was just being oversensitive. Yeah, that was probably it. Still, he decided he ought to tell him. "Pony, about Linda..."_

_"We really think we're ready to take this next step in our relationship, but this decision also affects you. So, what do you think?"_

_Ryan studied Pony for a moment. "You really like her, don't you?"_

_Pony's grin grew, which Ryan was amazed was even possible, and nodded. "I think she's the one."_

_On second though, Ryan could bear it, live with it, if it meant Pony was happy. Who was he to take away Pony's happiness? It would be selfish. Besides, Pony did so much for him. Pony deserved some happiness and to fall in love. Just because he had a good heart and was kind enough to take Ryan in and care for him like he was his own, didn't mean he should have to suffer and pay for it. He found someone he thought was special and Ryan should be happy for him and as supportive as Pony constantly was for him. How could he say no? "I'm fine with whatever you want."_

_Pony was practically bursting with happiness and hugged him tightly._

"What are you doing up at this hour?" Ryan turned to find Darry tiredly plopping down in his chair.

Turning off the television, Ryan apologized. "I didn't mean to wake you. I just couldn't sleep."

Darry nodded. "A lot on your mind?" Ryan shrugged. "What about?"

"Do you think someone could be two different people?"

Darry thought about the question for a moment. "You mean like a Dr. Jekyll and Mr. Hyde?"

Ryan wasn't sure if that description fit what he meant. "Two-faced. Makes everyone believe they're one way, when they're really another way entirely."

"Sounds like a liar, or a master manipulator."

Ryan nodded. "Yeah, that's it. You think you know a person."

"You know anyone like that?" Darry found Ryan's question suspicious, but Ryan didn't answer. His arm laid lazily on the arm of the couch. And Darry thought of another possible way to get him talking. "Those bruises look bad."

Tugging at the edge of his sleeves, he tried to pretend otherwise. "It doesn't feel too good having someone tug your arm or grip it like that, but it ain't that bad."

Darry was amazed he admitted that much. Though, it was hard to pretend it was anything else. "I wonder why someone would do that." He could tell he was pushing his luck and added quickly, "Hypothetically speaking."

"Hypothetically speaking," Ryan answered carefully, "maybe pulling someone out of the way of an oncoming speeding vehicle..." Quickly, he finished his thought, "Or some people don't like when others try to walk away." Ryan pushed himself off the couch. "I think I'm gonna go to bed."

Darry stood up, too, putting an arm around his shoulders and leading him to his room. "I'll tuck you in." Ryan climbed into bed and Darry pulled the covers over him. As he got to the door, he turned around. "You're a good kid. You know that, Ryan? And however you got those bruises, you didn't deserve any of it."

Ryan was quiet and Darry thought he might've fallen asleep. But out of the darkness and silence of the room came a small " 'Night Uncle Darry." Darry bid him good night and made his way to his own room, worrying and concerned.


	6. Pony?

**Disclaimer: I do not own The Outsiders.**

**AN: Thanks for the reviews and the views. All shall be revealed in due time. Just a warning, Pony's going to seem out of character. Also, sorry ****Mrs. Ponyboy Curtis**** it's probably not the reunion you were imagining. **

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Ryan was jolted awake by the slam of the front door. "Where is he!?" He knew that growl, all too well lately. Clambering out of bed, he rushed to his window, pushed it open and climbed through.

Soda and Darry came out of their rooms, surprised to find Pony stomping through the house and pushing passed them to get to Ryan's door. "Hey, Pone, you're a day earlier."

Pony threw open the door, scanning the now empty room and turned furiously to his brothers. "Where is he?" Soda and Darry exchanged a look and peered around Pony. The window was open and the curtain was blowing in the breeze. They groaned. "You don't know where he is?" Pony raged.

"Just calm down, Ponyboy." Soda told his younger brother. "I would've crawled out the window, too, if you came stomping in here, hollering like that for me."

Ponyboy turned on his heel heading toward the front door. "I'll calm down when I have his ass back in California where it belongs!"

"Where do you think you're going?" Darry followed him.

"Where the hell do you think I'm going, Darry? I'm going to go find him!" Stepping in his way, Darry told him to go sit down at the table. Pony cocked an eyebrow. "I ain't fourteen, Darry! I'm going to go find my kid!" Darry told him more firmly and loudly to sit his ass in the kitchen chair and Pony sighed heavily, rolling his eyes, but obeyed.

"You both need to calm down and he's going to be fine." Darry maintained the authoritative tone. If Darry suspected correctly, Ryan was probably with Steve.

"Walking alone through Tulsa?" Pony questioned, holding up Ryan's jacket. "He doesn't even have his coat, Darry? He traveled halfway across the country, god knows how, without his coat!"

Soda sat down next to him. "Just calm down, Pone."

"Calm down!" Pony shouted. He was anything but calm, and that did not seem to be a possibility any time soon. "Calm down! My sixteen-year old kid runs away from home, travels halfway across the country and you want me to be calm, Soda? How the hell am I supposed to feel? He scared me shitless! And now he's run off again! _Again_!" His teeth gritted.

"You're right. You've got every reason to be upset, but yelling ain't gonna help."

Just then the phone rang, and Darry answered it. He gave a couple "Uh-huh"s before hanging up and turning toward his younger brother. "Steve's bringing him by now."

Pony headed to the porch to wait, smoking a cigarette. A few minutes later, Steve pulled up and Ryan hopped out, heading nervously to the porch where Pony was still seething angrily. He crushed the cigarette butt under his heel and as Ryan moved to walk pased him, he snatched Ryan's wrist, tugging him close. "What the hell were you thinking? You scared me half to death!" Ryan tried to pull away with a sharp intake of breath.

"Ponyboy!" Darry stepped in between them, making Pony drop his hold on Ryan. "Kiddo, head on in. We'll be in a minute." Rubbing his arm, Ryan hurried inside, leaving the four men on the porch.

"What the hell was that?" Steve demanded.

Pony gave Steve a look of warning. "Thanks for dropping him off, but this don't concern you."

"This concerns the kid. This concerns me." Steve argued. But Soda told him to go and that they'd keep him informed.

"What was that, Ponyboy?" Soda questioned, his voice somewhere between anger, sadness, and confusion.

"What are you talking about?" Pony was growing more and more annoyed as his brothers blocked his path into the house and to his kid.

"He's talking about the way you grabbed his arm." Darry clarified, sharing Soda's feelings. "He has bruises all up and down his arm. Care to explain that?"

Pony stopped cold in his tracks. "He has what?"

"_Bruises_." Soda emphasized. "Tell us why that is."

Understanding what they were insinuating, he looked up at them hurt. "You think I did that?"

"We _think_ we don't like what we're seeing."


	7. Not Listening

**Disclaimer: I do not own The Outsiders.**

**AN: Thanks for the views, reviews, favorites, and follows. I appreciate them all. Remember readers, all in due time. Everything will be revealed in due time.**

**AN: I was looking over some of my old stories, and decided I didn't like the original cliffhanger I made between the two chapters and thought it would be better if it was one chapter.**

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Ponyboy pushed passed them and entered the livingroom. Darry and Soda weren't far behind. Ryan sat on the couch staring at his knee and rubbing his wrist, strands of hair covered his face. Pony reached for the sixteen-year old's arm, but Ryan pulled away. "What bruises are they talking about, Ryan?" But Ryan refused to answer.

Darry sat down in his chair. "I'm gonna take a look at your wrist, kiddo." He slowly reached out for Ryan's arm and gently rolled up the sleeve. Pony's eyes widened and his mouth hung open. "You lied last night when you said these weren't bad."

Ryan shrugged a shoulder. "They've been a little sore."

Soda threw a glare at his younger brother, putting a protective arm around Ryan's shoulders. "He didn't grab my arm that hard, Uncle Soda." Ryan defended as Pony stared at the bruises.

"Ryan, where... how..." Again, Ryan didn't answer Pony. "You better start talking."

Ryan closed his eyes in a pained expression. "It's nothing."

"It's nothing? It's nothing? You run away and you've got finger marks running up and down your arm, but it's nothing? You took off when you know your not supposed to! It was dangerous and stupid to travel halfway across the country! And you worried me sick! There is no good excuse for what you pulled! If something was bothering you then you should have come to me to talk about it!" Ryan hated it when Pony yelled like this. Maybe it was just his past, but Pony was frightening. He could be as scary and intimidating as Darry could appear. As Pony's voice was a crescendo, Ryan ducked his head and subconsciously moved closer to Soda.

"I can't talk to you, Pony." Ryan argued, his voice growing more upset.

"Have I ever given you a goddamn reason not to talk to me?"

"You're giving me one now!" Ryan snapped. He felt his face heat up and, much to his dislike, became blurry eyed as tears started to brim. His fists clenched and before he knew it, he was on his feet, matching Pony's tone.

"Don't you dare take that tone of voice with me!" Pony warned.

"You won't listen to me!" Ryan protested.

"I can't listen if you don't talk."

"I've tried talking to you, Pony! I can't talk if you don't listen!" Ryan countered.

"Ryan, what the hell happened? I leave for work in the morning and everything's great! I come home to find you're not there when you're supposed to be! I called Clyde and all the girls you went out with, to find out no one saw you. I call the school to find out you never went in! Linda says you threw a hissy fit and stormed out of the house and she assumed you were leaving for school!"

"You still won't listen!"

"About what? What am I deaf to, exactly?"

"About the cake!" Ryan cried. "About the runs we used to go on, about the fact I'm not allowed to cook anymore or work on the car! About your broken promises! It's the plans we made that you cancelled! It's that we never get any time alone! It's that we have gone months without talking to _our_ family! And Linda, Pony! You never listen about Linda! It's I must've misunderstood or she didn't know! It's the excuses you make for her! It's the way you are when you are with her! It's everything!" Ryan exploded and it all came rushing out. "It's everything, Pony!"

"She's a bit of a perfectionist and a neat freak!" Pony defended.

"She's a manipulative and controlling bitch!"

"You watch that mouth, young man!" Ryan watched Pony's hands and flinched.

"I'm sorry." Eyes clenched tight, Ryan prepared himself for the stinging and smarting. When he felt neither, he hesitantly cracked open one eye to find Pony frozen, with his mouth open, hands lowered.

"Ryan, I would never, _never_, hit you. You haven't cringed around me since long before we left Tulsa. You know I would never hit you, don't you?" Ryan remained silent, unresponsive. "I've never hit you before. I ain't gonna now and I ain't ever gonna. You trust me, don't you? I'd never let anything hurt you!"

Ryan scoffed. "Then why do I have this bruise, Pony?"

The strands of Ryan's hair fell back, fully exposing the purple on the side of his face. "Ryan," he gasped. He felt his heart sink and a sickening feeling overwhelming him. "Ryan, baby, how did you get that?" He took a step closer to his son, but Ryan backed away. Ryan just shook his head and disappeared into his room. Pony sunk to a seat on the couch beside Soda and stared helplessly at his brothers.


	8. Protection

**Disclaimer: I do not own The Outsiders.**

**AN: Thanks for the reviews, views, favorites, and follows. Thank you for the such kind reviews. They really make my day! :D Unfortunately I entered one of those dark writer's funk, which I hate! Because of that I ended up rewriting this chapter multiple times! The good news is I have left the dark and evil writer's funk and I like the way this chapter turned out!**

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There was a light knock on his door and Pony entered. Ryan closed his eyes tight. He was going for the 'if I can't see him then he can't see me' technique. Knowing that to be childish and that invisibility was an impossibility, he thought it could also work to fool Pony into thinking he was asleep. Of course, deception was never his strong suit. But at this point, he was willing to try anything.

Pony set a slice of chocolate cake down on the night stand and raked his fingers through Ryan's hair. It felt like there was this vast distance, this all consuming void, between them. And Ryan felt nothing could penetrate it, not even Pony's peace-offering of cake. No amount of chocolate was going to fix this or erase everything that happened. And it killed Ryan. It devastated him. "I'm sorry I wasn't listening before. I am now."

Ryan tried talking before. Pony wouldn't hear him then, so why should he try now? Didn't Pony know how hard this was for him? When he finally worked up the damn courage to say something, to voice a problem, that's when the excuses would begin. _Ryan must've misunderstood_ or _Ryan must've taken it wrong_. To Ryan, Pony might as well had been telling him he was just too oversensitive. After fifteen years of being taught to keep his mouth shut, and only a year of the gang getting him to break the tight-lipped silence, the last thing he needed was someone telling him he didn't hear what he heard, someone making excuses, someone not listening. "Just go back to California, Pony."

There was more to it, though. Words can hurt. It was a harsh lesson Ryan learned early on in life, one he unfortunately was taught again. Words are insidious and indelible. And no matter how hurt and betrayed he felt by Pony, he stilled cared for him. He loved him. "You're happy with Linda. You deserve to be happy. You shouldn't have to pay for being a good guy and taking in some kid whose nothing but trouble and a burden or having too kind a heart to say anything or get rid of me." He sniffled. It hurt to say it, but the words sounded true. With tears running down his face, he turned over, back to Pony. "If you love someone you got to let them go."

"Ryan, baby," Pony shook his shoulder. He was even more lost then before. It was like trying to pull teeth getting Ryan to talk and when he finally did, everything out of his mouth was cryptic. "I ain't going nowhere. No one's letting anyone go. You deserve to be happy, too. How can I be happy when you are upset and hurting?" Where in the almighty universe did Ryan get ideas like that? Or perhaps, a better question was who gave him those ideas? How else would he have gotten such thoughts if not by some other source? "Talk to me," he pleaded, "so I can make everything all better."

It wasn't that simple. Ryan shook his head. "I can't," he wept. "I love you too much." There it was. Pony suddenly realized Ryan thought he was protecting him.

Pony pulled his son into his arms and held the sixteen-year old while he cried. Burrying his head into Pony's shoulder, Ryan clung to Pony for dear life, despite his previous words. His embrace was safety, comfort. After many a nightmare, he had found himself there, and many times after Gopher's death as well. Ryan could've sworn Pony smelled of chocolate. Despite the vicious repetition in the back of his mind, blaring everything he told to Pony, and despite the fact he considered it selfish on his part, he wasn't willing to go through with it and let Pony go. He couldn't. In the end, though, he was sure those words would win like they did before to help justify running away.

He was stuck, caught between two hard decisions. He sought refuge from the always impending and unpredictable storm that lingered overhead for a while now, and protecting and giving back to Pony. And staring down these two choices, he didn't know what to do. Before, Pony and Linda made it rather easy for him to decide, especially when Pony refused to listen. But now that Pony said he wanted to, Ryan wasn't sure if he could, for both lack of trust and wishing to protect.

"It ain't your job to protect me." Pony told him firmly. "It's my job to protect you." He brushed the hair out of Ryan's face. "I've done a lousy job of it, though."

The look on Pony's face as he stared at the bruise was too much for Ryan. "You didn't give me the bruises, Pony."

"Who did?"

Ryan tugged at his sleeves, diverting his eyes. "If I tell you it will hurt you."

"It hurts me to see you hurt." Ryan hesitated, still not sure. Pony closed his eyes in a pained expression for a moment and exhaled deeply and heavily, remembering what his brother suggested before. _"Linda was the last person to see him before he ran off... Ryan just really doesn't seem to like her... Maybe she ain't what we think..."_

At first, Pony had defended her. Ryan was just having trouble adjusting to having someone new in their lives. Linda was just a neat-freak and a bit of a perfectionist. He explained away the many changes. After Linda slaved away meticulously cleaning, Ryan tracked dirt and oil everywhere from working on the car. Linda came home one night to find the kitchen filled with smoke and the house almost burned down from Ryan's cooking. (Though, even then, that seemed like an exaggeration and Ryan never did that before at the Curtis home.) Linda didn't think cake was a proper breakfast, and it woke her up when Pony and Ryan got up early for their run. Soda and Darry said it seemed unfair for Ryan. And Pony agreed, but he was just trying to keep the peace, keep everyone happy. Their words rang true, though, that Ryan wasn't very happy. And Ryan was his main concern.

He told Darry and Soda they were crazy for even suspecting Linda, sweet, charming, would-never-hurt-a-fly Linda. He didn't want to believe it. It was difficult to even think her capable of doing that to Ryan. Yet, he had to admit, a lot of signs were pointing to her. "You think I could ever be happy with someone who did that to you?"

Maybe Pony was listening, Ryan thought. "You said you loved her. You said she was the one."

"She ain't if she's hurting you." Pony told him firmly. "It was her, wasn't it?"

Hesitantly, Ryan gave a small nod, letting the tears fall freely. Pony held him tighter, feeling his heart shatter, because he trusted her, because she hurt his son, because he was blind, deaf, and oblivious. "I'm sorry, baby. I'm so sorry."

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**AN: This is not the end.**


	9. Square One

**Disclaimer: I do not own The Outsiders.**

**AN: Thanks for the reviews, views, follows, and favorites. I appreciate them all. And thank you to you all for sticking with the second story about Ryan. I'm thinking about doing another sequel. **

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So what exactly happened? So much was still left unexplained. They sat Ryan down with Pony's peace offering of cake and some chocolate milk. He was still red-faced and puffy-eyed from crying, something he was embarrassed about. Fortunately, none of the brothers drew any attention to it. They wanted to know everything.

Ryan sniffled, wiping his face with his sleeve. For as difficult as it would be for them to hear it, it was that much more difficult to tell it. He wasn't sure he could. It was hard just to admit it, but now they wanted the whole story. He gave them a pleading look, but all he got in return was a fork handed to him by Soda. Lowering his eye, he slowly began to eat, welcoming both the small and taste of chocolate.

"When...how..." Pony was having trouble forming the question, but Ryan thought he knew what he was asking.

"Right before I ran away. It started off with just words and I thought I could take it. Then she started grabbing my arms and I thought I could take that, too. I mean, I've experienced worse. But the words- they sounded true, especially what she said about you, Pony." _And I came to you_, Ryan thought, but dared not voice out loud for fear of making Pony feel that much more worse and guilty, _Despite what she said. And I tried to tell you_. "She wouldn't even let us call you, Uncle Darry, Uncle Soda. Then she found my sketchbook and she tore it apart, destroyed it completely. And when I tried to get away," he pulled the dog tags out of his pocket, his face as broken and miserable as his voice, "she ripped Gopher's dog tags from my neck." She went after the things that mattered most to him. "And I thought I would just take it because she was the one." Ryan's lip began to quiver. "And I should have know something was going to happen that morning," he shook his head, "because, like you said, everything was going great. You left the house and we got into it and what she said hurt. It really hurt, Pony. And I tried to walk away, but she grabbed my arm and she... she..." Ryan buried his face in his hands. "I just couldn't do it again. I couldn't take it. Not being hit. And the words sounded true, Pony. But you loved her. I never saw you smile so much, when I wasn't causing trouble and upsetting her that is. So you couldn't know, about any of it. And no one would listen when I tried anyway. But I couldn't take being hit again, not again, and I ran." He looked up at them and his face was so innocent, so heart-breaking. "I didn't know what else to do."

Pony gave Ryan's hand a squeeze. "Baby, I'm sorry. I should've listened. I should've seen or noticed it."

"But," Ryan cringed in anticipation. "I talked back. I wouldn't just try to walk away. I'd say things back sometimes."

"I doesn't matter." Darry said firmly. "She shouldn't have hit you or said those thing to you."

Soda agreed. "There's nothing you could've done to deserve that, Rye."

"I'll make this better." Pony vowed. "I'll take care of this. She won't be hurting you anymore. We won't be seeing her again."

"Just remember, Ponyboy, killing her will put you in jail and Rye needs you." Soda reminded Pony before taking Ryan to the garage.

Now alone with Darry, Ponyboy put his head in his hands. "I really screwed up. How do I fix things with Ryan?"

"I don't know." Darry told him truthfully. "But it'll be hard and it's going to take more than getting rid of Linda. It might've only taken a few months to put you back to square one with Ryan, but it'll take a hell of a lot longer to fix it."

A day later, they stood outside their Hollywood home. Despite Pony's promises that Linda wouldn't be there, Ryan was still very hesitant to walk through the door. After much coaxing, they entered to find the house empty of both the woman and her possessions. The only thing of hers that remained was the coffee maker, which Ryan was more than happy to throw in the dumpster.

"Why don't you rest a little?" Pony headed into the kitchen as Ryan stretched out on the couch. "You'll need all your energy when we go for our run tomorrow morning. And it's been a while since we had cake around here." He started to make some. While Ryan fell into a peaceful sleep as the smell of chocolate filled the air, Pony thought back to Darry's words. It was going to take a while to fix it, and this was only the beginning.

The End


End file.
